


Mistake

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dating, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: “You were the one time I let love weaken me, and I want you around as a constant reminder to never make that mistake again.”Oswald is tempted to make that mistake again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am thinking of writing a part two.

Victor tapped the side of the block of ice with his knuckle. He looked over at Oswald, his expression was hard to read, but Oswald placed it somewhere between amused and surprised.

He hadn’t expected Victor to be one of his new club’s first customers, yet he had been there the moment it had opened it doors and had stayed long past opening hours. He had said he wanted to catch up, because he hadn’t been around much recently and felt like he had missed ‘a hell of a time’. Oswald had indulged him, because he had no good reason to refuse. 

He told Victor what had happened, playing down his own hurt, although Victor looked at him so penetratingly that Oswald became nervous. He found that maintaining eye contact was difficult, because every time their eyes met, it was as if Victor was staring right into his soul. Or whatever wretched, shrivelled up little thing he had in place of a soul. 

When he finished his story, Victor smiled. Oswald wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t a funny story, but Victor seemed to find some humour in it. 

“So you _froze_ him?” 

Oswald nodded. 

Victor chuckled. “Pretty cold.”

Oswald rolled his eyes and raised his glass to his lips. “It had to be done. He hurt me, betrayed me. I won’t ever let that happen again.” He nodded towards Ed, preserved in the ice. “Besides, he’s a conversation starter.”

It was a grim joke, and one Oswald himself failed to laugh at. Truthfully, he missed him. He missed his friendship, his companionship. God help him, he even missed his stupid riddles.

Sometimes, late at night when he was alone with his frozen friend, he would toy with the idea of thawing him out. Just to see what he would say. Just to talk to him again. Even if he was sure that was a terrible, terrible idea. 

They would probably argue anyway.

It’s not like they could simply kiss and make up.

“So that’s it for you?” Victor’s voice broke Oswald from his thoughts and he looked over at him, a little startled at being torn out of them so suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, finishing his drink and pouring himself another.

“No more falling in love?” 

Oswald snorted derisively. He shook his head. “Definitely not. It’s nothing but trouble.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice, he didn’t even try to. He didn’t expect Victor to care or be concerned, so there was no point. So what the assassin said next shocked him and nearly made him splutter out his drink.

“Shame. I was going to ask you out for a drink sometime.” 

Oswald wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Victor said it so _casually._ If he was joking, he would kill him.

“What?” He choked. 

“Yeah. I just never got round to it. Guess I was nervous you’d say no.” Victor shrugged. Oswald couldn’t imagine Victor ever being nervous. He told himself he must be joking, but he didn’t seem to be. 

The assassin put on his coat and looked over the frozen man, clad in green, whose expression was shocked and sad and desperate. He didn’t seem sorry for him, but he seemed slightly wistful. A little sad that things had turned out the way they had. If only because of how it had hardened Oswald’s heart towards love.

“Thanks for the catch up.” He smiled, and Oswald’s mouth still hung open slightly. “See you around.”

Oswald didn’t return the goodbye, because his mind was still reeling, spinning, at the revelation that Victor had wanted to ask him out for a drink sometime.

Was Victor toying with him? Was he joking? If he ran after him, if he said he would like that very much, would Victor laugh and say he hadn’t been serious? 

The possibility that it had been a joke, or a flippant, insincere remark, worried him. But what worried him more, was the thought that perhaps it was genuine. Perhaps Victor truly had wanted to ask him out, but had never found the right moment to ask.

It wasn’t long after Victor left that the morning sun started to rise on the Gotham skyline, but Oswald barely noticed it. He barely noticed how the sun’s rays caught the edge of the club’s ‘centrepiece’ and how they made its clear surface sparkle quite beautifully.

When he had last seen Victor, he had hung back after the others at the meeting had left. Oswald had been in a bad mood, he’d snapped at him, asked him what he wanted. Victor had paused, then he’d said, “Nothing.”

Then he’d left. 

Oswald looked up at Ed, a soft sigh passing his lips. 

Despite how ridiculous he had always thought Ed looked in that hat, despite how stupid his new monicker was, he missed him. His encased limbs were reaching out for Oswald, frozen before they reached him, and Oswald could no longer reach them either. He would never touch Ed again. He would never kiss him. He would never be able to lie in bed beside him, with his head against his chest and hear Ed murmur something soft and sweet and affectionate to him.

He hadn’t forgiven Ed for what he had done, but that didn’t change the fact that part of him wanted him back. 

He believed love was nothing but trouble for him. Nothing but heartache, nothing but betrayal, nothing but pain. But the thought of life without it already seemed like a lonely one to him.

Victor was very different from Ed. He was still largely a mystery to Oswald, but he could tell that much at least. 

He wasn’t in love with Victor, but perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps he could allow himself a friend. He would just have to be careful not to fall in love with him.

He decided that after he finished his drink and got some sleep, he would give Victor a call. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. So there will be a part three.

Oswald stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. Then, in a fit of irritated indecisiveness, he tugged off his tie and threw it aside. Then, he did the same to his jacket.

“It’s all wrong.” He complained, rushing over to the chair that he’d slung two other possible jackets over. A long, black velvet number and a shorter one that had gold trim and shimmered in the light. He couldn’t stomach wearing either of them.

“Ivy!” He barked, and his redhead companion looked up from her book. Some nonsense vegan cookbook that taught you to make cakes that tasted like cardboard but were apparently ‘healthy’. He held up both jackets for her to observe. 

She blinked cluelessly.

“Well?” He shook them impatiently. “Which one?”

Catching what he was talking about, she rolled her eyes and shut her book over. “I liked the first one.”

“What?” 

She nodded towards the jacket he had just thrown onto the ground. 

“Nonsense. It’s far too plain.” 

“Plain can be good. You don’t want to come on too strong.” Ivy replied, and to his frustration, Oswald had to admit that she had a point.

It was only a drink. In his own club. With someone who worked for him. He had told himself it didn’t even really qualify as a date. It was simply… Two friends, getting reacquainted. Yet he’d gotten carried away and spent all afternoon agonising about what to wear.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He admitted. Begrudgingly. He had originally thought that he’d do the opposite of whatever she’d suggested. If she had vouched for the velvet jacket, he would surely have chosen the gold trim one. He picked up the plain black suit jacket up from the floor and dusted it down with his hands. 

“You shouldn’t drink too much tonight either. You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.”

Oswald scoffed and looked over his shoulder at her, she was back to her book, but she sounded concerned. As if _she_ was the older one.

“Please.” He smirked, “He asked me if I wanted a drink. Singular.”

“I’m only saying, I know what you’re like.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a touch defensively, because he knew what was coming.

“Sentimental.” She replied, and she looked up from her book briefly, a soft expression on her face. “Just be careful, okay?”

He should have been insulted by her concern, but the affection behind it touched him, although he didn’t show it dare show it. 

“I’ll be fine.” He insisted, facing away from her again so that he didn’t have to meet her eyes. “As I said, it’s only a drink.”

She was quiet as he put the jacket he’d rejected mere minutes ago back on. He straightened out the bottom of it as he admired himself in the mirror. Then, Ivy piped up again.

“I still think it would be safer if you used one of my perfumes.”

—

“This isn’t exactly what I pictured when I asked you out for a drink.” Victor admitted. He might have been referring to the fact they were in Oswald’s own club, but he wasn’t. Although he didn’t look back at them, he was obviously talking about the two guards that stood by the top of the mezzanine stairs. They wore shades and black suits that seemed to barely be able to contain their muscular bodies, and to anyone other than Victor, they would be pretty intimidating.

“A simple precaution. I can never be too careful.” Oswald smiled,.

“Are you trying to impress me or scare me?” Victor asked, as he sat down opposite him.

Oswald blinked. Suddenly, but overwhelmingly, he became afraid that he had annoyed Victor. He chided himself for that. It was weak.

“That was not my intention-“

“If I wanted to kill you, these two wouldn’t stop me.” 

Oswald swallowed deeply. 

“I see.” He made a gesture to the two large men, and they turned around and walked down the stairs, leaving Victor and Oswald in privacy. 

“That wasn’t meant as a threat. I just want to be clear.” Victor clarified, once they were gone. 

Oswald smiled, a touch more genuinely than he had the first time. He wondered if Victor was trying to impress or scare _him._

“Of course.” He chose not to embarrass Victor by asking him about it. A young man with a notepad came over. He smiled politely at them both, but was silent. Oswald offered a menu to Victor. “What would you like to drink?” 

“A coke.”

“Oh come on, Victor.” Oswald laughed.

Victor paused. His brow furrowing. After some serious thought, he relented. “I had a nice mocktail last time I was here.”

“The strawberry one?”

“Mhm.”

Oswald nodded at the young man who had come over to take their order. He was handsome, as all the staff were. He wondered if Victor had noticed, but he saw that was he looking over the menu he had passed him. 

“I hope you don’t mind that he took the drink order so quickly, I thought you might need some more time to decide what you wanted to eat.” He didn’t understand why Victor was being so quiet. He felt compelled to keep talking to fill in the gaps.

“You were right. It’s an impressive menu. You have good taste.”

Oswald ate up the compliment. He would greedily accept any and all compliments to his new establishment. He was proud of it. He had toppled his rivals, been King of Gotham, he had been the _Mayor_ , yet the Iceberg Lounge felt like his greatest achievement. It symbolised a new start for him. New opportunities. It proved to himself, and to everyone who visited, what he could do. 

Ed’s icy figure served as a reminder to that as well.

Oswald Cobblepot always prevailed. Oswald Cobblepot was a success. Oswald Cobblepot didn’t need anyone.

The waiter came back with their drinks and Victor ordered some fries. The smaller man’s eyes grew wide for a moment. 

“Are you sure? Would you not prefer something more substantial?” He asked, quite insistently.

Victor put his lips to the purple straw in his mocktail. It was a mix of syrups and fruit juice and crushed ice, with a fresh strawberry sitting on top. Oswald had nearly gotten a toothache when he’d tried it before, but Ivy had insisted that such drinks were trendy. 

“Nope. Fries are fine. Besides, the best way to tell if a place’s food is any good is to try the fries.”

Oswald bit his tongue. Surely, he thought, the best way to tell was to try the food itself. 

“I’ll have the tuna steak.” He said to the youth, who nodded and obediently collected up their menus before disappearing down the mezzanine stairs.

—

Oswald didn’t understand Victor.

He was the one who had asked him out, but he was being quiet, awkward. He barely spoke and when he did it was normally to correct Oswald on some minor detail of what he said. By the time Oswald had finished his meal, he decided that Victor and him would simply not work out. 

They were too different. 

It had been foolish to imagine they could be friends, or anything other than employer and employee.

He made sure Victor saw him glance at the time. Then he sighed and put his cutlery down onto his plate. 

“Well, time certainly does fly. I’m afraid I must get back to work. I still have a few things to take care of before the evening is over.” Oswald announced, not bothering to sound too convincing. He doubted Victor would notice anyway.

“It’s only been twenty-five minutes.” The assassin pointed out, and Oswald smiled tightly. It was more of a grimace.

“Yes, but I’m a busy man.”

Victor frowned slightly. Oswald wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance, or hurt, but he decided that he didn’t care.

When Oswald didn’t say anything else, Victor stood up and Oswald did him the courtesy of doing the same. 

“Are you free next week?” He asked.

Oswald scoffed, “No. Sorry.”

“The week after?”

He shook his head. It was easy to be callous once he had started. “Victor. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think we are suited for each other. Either as friends, or as whatever else you had imagined. I am flattered, truly, but not interested.”

“I see.” Victor said, and if he was disappointed, he did a good job of hiding it. “I’ll go then.”

Oswald waited for him to do that, not offering anything more. Victor stayed put just long enough for it to be a little awkward, then he left.

Oswald breathed a long sigh of relief. He called out for the young waiter and ordered himself another drink, a stronger one.

He sat down, by himself this time, and played the evening over in his head. He couldn’t understand why Victor had acted the way he did. Then he’d had the gall to look annoyed, or hurt, when Oswald had cut their ‘date’ short. He’d been the one putting all the effort in. He’d spent so long choosing the right outfit, and Victor hadn’t even commented on it. 

He glanced down from his seat on the mezzanine and saw Ed, his frozen centrepiece. It reminded him, once again, that love was a waste of time, energy, and it led to nothing but trouble. He was better off on his own.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time he returned home that night, Oswald was quite drunk. 

In the morning, he would vaguely remember Ivy scolding him for not taking her advice. Somehow, he made it up the stairs to his bedroom. He suspected that Ivy had helped since there was no way he would have made it on his own without falling down the stairs.

It had been a while since he had gotten so pathetically sloshed. The last time he recalled was during the period when he had still been hopelessly infatuated with Ed. Before he had found out that Ed knew about Isabelle or whatever her name was, before Ed had turned traitor, before Ed had shot him…

He was unconscious before he hit the mattress, and when he woke up his face was in a pillow and his head spun and spun, although he was lying perfectly still. 

A sliver of light made it through a crack in the curtains, and he pulled his bedsheets up above his head to shield himself from its merciless glare.

Moments later, annoyingly perfectly timed, there was a knock on the door. 

“Go away.” Oswald demanded from beneath the safety of his duvet.

The words reverberated around in his skull and he whined in dismay. 

Despite his order, he heard the door open. 

“It’s me.”

It was Ivy, because of course it was.

“Don’t you have some soil to be fertilising or something?” He complained, refusing to emerge from his cocoon.

“I brought you tea that will be good for your hangover.” He felt her sit on the side of the bed.

“Leave it and get out.”

“Last night didn’t go so good, huh?”

When Ivy had first told him that she was actually a teenage girl trapped in an adult woman’s body, he hadn’t believed her. However, having spoken to her more, his opinion had changed.

“What gave it away?” He muttered sarcastically. He finally emerged, but only because that tea sounded interesting, and welcome. While he would much rather be left alone, if all he had to do to get it was endure some smalltalk from Ivy, he supposed he could endure. 

“I’m sorry.” She said, with a sympathetic look on her face that made Oswald feel queasy all over again.

“Don’t be. As I said, it was only a drink. It was hardly serious.” He took the mug she had brought with her into his hands and brought it close to his lips. He sniffed it suspiciously, but it didn’t smell nearly as unpleasant as most of her concoctions. “I’ve been through worse.”

“I know but-”

“Ivy. Really. I’m fine.”

He couldn’t pretend to understand Ivy, nor could he pretend that he appreciated her concern. But all the same, he recognised that she was the only person left who would give him even a shred of sympathy or affection. Unfortunately, for her, he didn’t want it. It only added to his headache.

She paused, and gradually her concerned expression faded into a more neutral one. However, when she next spoke, her voice still carried some of her previous worry in it. “If you’re fine, then why did you get so messed up last night?”

“I didn’t get ‘messed up’, I simply-”

“You were sick in the hallway.”

Oswald blinked. Then he snorted derisively. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You were, and you called me Ed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You must have misheard me.” 

He wished that he believed that Ivy was making it up, but honestly… He didn’t. He didn’t  _ want  _ to believe it, but as Ivy told him more details, he slowly began to remember more than he wanted to. 

He saw flashes of the previous night. He remembered the burn in his throat when he’d thrown up. He remembered leaning on her, mumbling into her shoulder and being confused that Ed’s hair was so long. And the wrong colour.

“Enough, enough..” He flapped his hands in her general direction to shoo her off the bed. “Just… Leave me in peace.”

To his surprise, this time Ivy did as she was told, and he was left alone with his half-remembered memories of the night before.

\--

After Victor had left, Oswald remained on the mezzanine. He finished his second drink, and promptly ordered a third.

He had assured Ivy that it was just ‘a drink’, but that hadn’t really been a lie. He had only had one drink with Victor.

The man puzzled him. Oswald began to wonder why he had asked him out if he had been so quiet. He had never been on a date before, but it was his understanding that conversation was expected. Questions. Some general show of interest.

He had felt none of those things from Victor. All he had done was stare. Hadn’t his mother ever told him that was rude? 

Although, he supposed that he had been guilty of staring as well. Of course, it hadn’t been quite the same when he did it. After all,  how could he help himself from staring at Jim, or Ed. They made it impossible  _ not  _ to stare. 

He had came to the GCPD once, to ask a favour of Jim, and the detective must have spilled something on his shirt because even though he was in the bullpen where everyone could see, he had taken his shirt off and was stretching out his undershirt, seeing if the stain had soaked through onto it as well. It hadn’t. 

“Damn.” He’d said, and that coarse fool Detective Bullock had made some comment about how Jim would need to go around solving crimes in his wifebeater. 

“Very funny, Harv. Just get me a new shirt from the lockers, would you?”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because, it seems I have a visitor.” He nodded in Oswald’s direction and Oswald had completely forgotten what he’d came to talk to him about. 

When Jim turned round, and he could better see the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, his chest… He was sure he had gone completely scarlet. 

Jim had gotten annoyed with him, asked him why he’d risked coming to the GCPD if all he was going to do was stammer at him. Oswald didn’t think it had been like that for Victor though.

He wasn’t like Jim. As much as he would like to be, he wasn’t the sort of fellow that made men stop in their tracks and forget their words. 

Although, he supposed that Ed wasn’t like that either. Obviously, Oswald had thought he was very handsome, but he was aware that he wasn’t quite as chiselled and had less of a manful presence than the detective. But that hadn’t prevented Oswald from getting tongue-tied with him as well.

There had been numerous times when Oswald had meant to say something to Ed, but found it impossible to get the words out. He would try and try, but his courage would leave him, and he’d end up saying something stupid instead. Or nothing. Sometimes it felt better to say nothing rather than say something foolish.

He finished his drink. Ordered a fourth.

He wondered if maybe… That had been the case with Victor. Or maybe he had realised that asking him out had been a mistake. 

Maybe he wasn’t impressed by Oswald’s success, by his boasting. Maybe he found it in poor taste. Or self-centred.

Oswald suddenly realised he hadn’t asked Victor anything about himself. 

He had said that the drink was so that they could ‘catch up’, but he had come away from it not knowing the first thing about what Victor had been up to since they had last spoken. 

He swallowed down a bitter mouthful and realised that perhaps… The date going south had not been entirely Victor’s fault.

\--

After that, he had decided that he should call Victor, since it was too late to run after him. He would call, apologise for his selfishness, and offer a second date so that they could make things right between them. 

He had needed a few more drinks to get his courage up to do that, and as he sat in bed, sipping on Ivy’s hangover cure, he realised he had no idea if he had actually gone through with calling him. That was not a good sign. He had no idea what he might have said if he’d called Victor while in that state.

Ivy had said he had called her Ed when she’d helped him to bed. The thought that he would have called Victor that too made his stomach twist inside of him and the dread nearly made the contents of it leave his body. 

Absorbed by this new fear, he jumped and scalded himself with tea when he heard another knock on his bedroom door. 

He let out an exclamation of pain, and the door flew open before he had even had time to put the mug down and mop himself up.

It was Victor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, here is the final part of this story. I hope you enjoy it.

“Why is he here?” Oswald whispered to Ivy, as the latter handed him a towel to dry himself with. 

The three of them had moved down to the kitchen, and Victor was currently out of earshot, fetching some cream for Oswald's scalded hand. Oswald wasn't too happy about being out of bed when he was still recovering from the previous night, but the shock had snapped him out of any realistic chance of getting back to sleep.

“He’s been here since last night.” Ivy replied, her eyes flitting to the side evasively. 

Oswald narrowed his. He sensed she was hiding something. “What?”

He didn't get an answer before Victor came back with the ointment. He opened the lid with a pop.

“Got it. Give me your hand, boss.” 

So he was back to Victor calling him 'boss’. 

“I can do it myself, just give me the tube.” 

Victor did as he was told and Oswald rubbed a blob of it over the inflamed area. It was only once the cooling substance started to take effect that he realised he had accidentally been rude to Victor yet again. He closed the lid over once he was done and handed it back to him, making sure to say thank you as he did.

After all, he had meant to make amends to Victor. To do that, he had to be courteous. 

Not that he thought his curtness was entirely his fault. He still had a splitting headache.

“Ivy, would you leave us alone for a moment?” He asked, and Ivy raised an eyebrow curiously. Oswald tried not to roll his eyes. “I have something I want to talk to Victor about.”

She sighed, and with a flick of her hair, she left them alone.

As soon as she did, Oswald felt a nervousness rise up inside him. Victor didn't look angry, or upset, but he didn't seem overly happy either. It didn't make sense. Oswald had thought that he would be relieved that he wanted to give things a second chance with him. 

Perhaps he didn't realise that was what he was going to say.

“Victor, I-”

Oswald stopped because he realised he wasn't entirely sure how to put what he wanted to say to him. He accepted that he owed Victor another chance, but what if Victor did not think the same way? It was possible he would be angry with him, and insulted that Oswald would think him so desperate as to even want to have another drink with him.

He swallowed, a little nervously.

Victor was a valuable asset to him. He didn’t want to lose that either. 

“How long have you been here?”

He decided to change tact.

“I came last night when you asked me to.” 

So it was true, he had called Victor.

“But you were already asleep when I arrived. Ivy let me stay in one of the guest rooms.” 

Oswald was afraid to ask for details, because he was sure the answer would be mortifying, but he had to. If he didn't find out, he would end up agonizing over it anyway.

“What did I say?”

He winced in preparation, but Victor shrugged nonchalantly. Whatever it was, he didn't seem too bothered by it.

“You asked me to come see you, said you were lonely.”

Oswald ran a hand over his face, which was flushed red in embarrassment. He supposed it could have been worse, but it was still far from dignified. “I see.”

“You also called me Ed.”

That was what Oswald had dreaded.

He was obvious enough in his distress for Victor to offer him some words of consolidation.

“It's okay,” He said, but Oswald was sure that it wasn't. 

It took him several seconds, but he pulled himself from his shame and forced himself to look Victor in the eye. He managed a smile, but he was sure it wasn't terribly convincing. 

“Thank you for coming, Victor. But as you can see, I am fine now.”

It was best for him to abandon his plan to ask Victor for a redo of their date. There was no way Victor would want that after how he had behaved. 

“I would like to apologise for last night. I was not at my most pleasant.” 

Once again, he could not read Victor's expression. Perhaps that was for the best.

“Are you?”

Oswald blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Are you fine now?”

Oswald began to respond, but as he started, Victor stepped in close and the words seemed to leave him. He wasn't quite sure why they had fled, but despite his mind scrabbling for an answer on the affirmative, the word 'yes’ was lost to him.

Victor didn't touch him, but his hand hovered close to his arm, as if he wanted to. Oswald didn't know why. He had done nothing to deserve the other man's concern, to say nothing of his affection.

“I can stay, if you want me to.”

Although for some reason Victor wanted to give him it anyway.

“Do you?”

Oswald didn't know what he wanted from Victor.

He wanted to be powerful, to be feared, to be respected.

Once he had wanted to be loved, but after Ed he had sworn not to make that mistake ever again.

“Yes.”

Yet here he was.

Making the same mistake again.

\--

They went out for another drink, and this time, Oswald asked Victor questions. He asked him about his work, his hobbies, his family. Through asking the questions he realised how little he actually knew about Victor. He had thought he was mysterious, but perhaps that was just because no one asked him about anything beyond how much a hit cost.

There were some things Victor didn't want to talk about, but Oswald was still surprised by how much he told him. He told him things that could make him vulnerable. Things that made him seem like he could be hurt.

Oswald appreciated the trust it took to do that. He wasn't sure he deserved it.

Their first date had been cut off after twenty-five minutes, but their second carried on until the Lounge was being closed up for the night. Oswald hadn't even noticed the time.

“I suppose I should go.” Victor stood up and Oswald joined him.

Oswald found that he didn't want him to leave. He had enjoyed his evening, more than any he could remember recently, and he wasn't eager for it to end. 

It had reminded him of the evenings he had spent with Ed in the mansion. Neither of them found sleep easy to come by, so they would often end up sitting by the fireplace together. Chatting. They would talk about everything and nothing, and Oswald grew to look forward to those evenings more than any other part of the day.

Even before he had fallen for him, he had loved him in another way. He felt respected by him. He felt him listening when he talked to him. He had been his first real experience of friendship. He had thought back then that he would have been happy to keep things like that forever.

“I can get them to keep it open for us. I mean, if you would like that.” He blushed as Victor gave him a curious gaze. His eyes lowering, he smiled to try to disguise his desperation. “Of course, I understand if you would rather be on your way. We have already spent several hours together and-”

“Sure.” Victor sat back down with a gentle thud. Oswald was awestruck. 

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. I like talking with you.”

Oswald felt his cheeks grow hotter, so he prayed the dim lights disguised their hue, although he had a feeling they wouldn't. “Wonderful. I mean, ah, good. I would like that. To continue talking. If you're sure it's not an inconvenience.”

Victor chuckled, and Oswald was surprised by the warmth of the sound. “You’re forgetting, I’m the one who asked you out. I want to be here. I like you, Oswald.”

Oswald had forgotten just how much he had wanted to hear someone say that to him. He sat down, daring to feel hope that this time would be different. This time, he would fall in love and it wouldn't weaken him, it would make him stronger.


End file.
